


I can be myself with you

by HuyanaShadowheart



Series: Protector and Protected [2]
Category: King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 17:43:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11063964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuyanaShadowheart/pseuds/HuyanaShadowheart
Summary: Arthur is troubled by the burden of ruling his kingdom and confides in you. Weeks pass and from time to time, he comes to you when he wants to talk. Until one day, he suddenly stands in your bedroom, in the middle of the night.Part 2 to It matters to me.





	I can be myself with you

**Author's Note:**

> Fluffy smut. Haven’t written smut in a while, no idea if this is any good XD

For the first few days since Arthur had asked you to move into the castle in Camelot, you had helped out all around it, wherever somebody needed help and you could provide it. Until you got stuck in the kitchen and not only discovered that you actually liked cooking, but were also fairly good at it. You had mentally prepared yourself, to be bored out of your mind and not find anything to do, but working in the castle kitchen proved to be hard work and every night you fell asleep in your room as soon as your head hit the pillow. But you couldn’t be happier. You were reunited with your friends, whom you also considered family, and you didn’t need to be afraid of violence anymore.

                The only thing that overshadowed your own happiness was Arthur and his gloomy mood. It was as if he constantly carried a dark cloud over his head. You weren’t the only one worried about the new king. Bill once told you, while you were on the way back from the market, that Arthur had gone suspiciously quiet. He didn’t confide in his knights, didn’t seek anyone’s advice.

                ‘If he’d only talk to somebody, to get whatever’s weighing him down off his chest, we’d all sleep better,’ Percy said another morning. And you had to agree. Seeing him quietly suffer by himself made your heart ache. You were grateful for everything he had done for you throughout your life and only wanted him to be happy, to see him smile again and laugh and hear his stupid jokes. But you had never thought, he would actually come to _you_. You had expected him to go talk to one of his knights, not to show up in the kitchen while you were in the middle of making a stew.

                The kitchen had gone eerily quiet as soon as Arthur had entered, which you hadn’t noticed at first as you stood with your back to the entrance, concentrating on not chopping off one of your fingers. You turned around, when he cleared his throat, and almost dropped your knife.

                ‘God, Arthur, I didn’t see you. Is everything alright?’ You put your knife aside and smiled at him.

                He shook his head. ‘I need somebody to talk to. _Alone_ ,’ he answered. You looked at the other cook and the kitchen servants, then you sighed.

                ‘Follow me,’ you said and lead Arthur out of the kitchen, down a hallway and into a small courtyard you had discovered a few days earlier.

                Arthur looked around, frowning. ‘Why did I not know this place exists?’

                ‘Because I didn’t tell anybody. I found it a few days ago, when I couldn’t sleep. I thought of turning it into an herb garden or something else. I’m just not sure anything would grow in here, not really much sunlight that gets over the walls,’ you rambled. Arthur smiled.

                ‘Sounds like you’ve settled in.’

                You grinned at him and nodded. ‘I have. I never said thank you for coming to get me.’

                Arthur waved you off, apparently to him, it was no big deal. It was to you though, but you didn’t want to keep talking about yourself. You wanted to know what was going on with him and you told him that. Told him that you were worried, just as everybody else was.

                He sighed and dragged his hands through his hair. ‘I just never thought ruling a kingdom would be this hard. I know, I can trust Bill and Percy and Tristan and all my other knights, when I need advice. But in the end, it is always my decision to make.’

                You stepped closer to him, took one of his hands in yours and looked up at him. ‘And you need somebody to talk to, who does not have anything to do with the decisions that are made at the roundtable,’ you suggested. Arthur nodded.

                ‘Well, then I’ll always be here for you if you need me. As will the herb garden,’ you promised and smiled at him. Arthur chuckled.

                ‘I really don’t think, this will ever be a great flourishing garden, Y/N,’ he laughed.

                ‘No?’

                ‘No, definitely not. But it can be our secret place,’ he replied.

* * *

 

                Over the next weeks you and Arthur grew closer, every time something bothered him and he felt like he had nobody else to turn to, he came to you. Or into the herb garden, which – despite what Arthur had expected – did actually flourish in the small courtyard, as did you. The others noticed the change in both you and Arthur. Whenever you came across each other, you’d smile at him and he’d return it. You had to admit, you relished the knowledge that he confided in you, that you could provide a little sanctuary for him when everything became too much. But you had never expected, he would turn up at your bedroom door in the middle of the night when he couldn’t sleep.

                You rubbed your eyes as you waddled from your bed to the door, a light, but insistent knocking had woken you up. The stone floor was cold beneath your bare feet. You frowned when you opened the door and found Arthur on the other side, dressed in a plain shirt and pants.

                ‘Arthur, what’s wrong?’

                He smiled at you sheepishly. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t want to wake you. I couldn’t sleep…’ He scratched the back of his head and you thought that he looked like a lost puppy. You sighed and then opened the door a little bit more.

                ‘Come in.’

                He thanked you, entered your bedroom and sat down on your bed. With every other guy you would have said something about the naturalness with which he plopped down on your bed. But you weren’t going to say anything, afraid he would vanish again. You sat down next to him and he surprised you again, when he embraced you and pulled you close to him. You rested your head against one of the pillows, Arthur’s head bedded on your stomach. Hesitantly, you began to stroke his hair with your fingers.

                ‘Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?’ you whispered, afraid to disturb the peaceful moment if you spoke too loudly. Arthur began playing with the hem of your night dress.

                ‘We lost one of our merchant ships today… And there are rumours that it was the Vikings. But I know them, and I asked them. And they keep saying it wasn’t them, but everybody else keeps pressuring me to act. I know, it couldn’t have been the Vikings, we’ve made peace with them. But who else would attack one of our ships?’ He sounded utterly torn over the possibility that he might have to declare war on a nation he had befriended since he had taken the throne.

                ‘Are you sure the ship was attacked and not lost in a storm?’ You asked. After all, the sea was rough at this time of year.

                ‘Vikings picked up a survivor. Which is why I know it couldn’t have been them. But who else?’ He lifted his head and looked into your eyes.

                ‘You know, I don’t know much about politics, Art. But if they say, they didn’t attack the ship and if the survivor says the same thing, then it wasn’t them. Just trust your feeling and if the others insist on an investigation, then launch that. But please, don’t accuse your allies of going against you if you know they didn’t,’ you said and, in a moment of impulsiveness, put your hand on Arthur’s cheek.

                ‘Maybe you’re right,’ he sighed. ‘Thank you, Y/N. Somehow, you always find the right words.’ He suddenly leaned closer to you, pressed his lips on yours. At first, you were too startled to react, but in the end, you gave in and returned his kiss. Deep down, you had wanted to do that a long time ago. And by Arthur’s actions, you knew, he did too.

                He deepened the kiss, your hands slid down to his waist, tugging at his shirt. He broke the kiss for a moment to get rid of his shirt. Then his lips were back against yours, his hands travelling up your leg, lifting the hem of your nightgown. Your heart was pounding in your chest, you couldn’t believe you were actually doing this with Arthur, not only a boy you had known since your childhood, but also your king.

                Without really thinking about what you were doing, you pushed him onto his back, straddled his hips. You hesitated for a moment, then pulled your dress over your head. Arthur sat up, pressing his upper body against yours. Your lips found his again and you began to move your hips against his. He moaned against into the kiss, his fingers gently digging into your thighs, trying to pull you ever closer.

                At some point, Arthur decided, he needed to get rid of his pants, so he rolled you over onto your back, undressed and returned to your embrace with a fiery kiss. He pushed his hips against yours, pushed himself inside you and you shuttered for a moment. It had been weeks since you last slept with a man, but you couldn’t be happier that it was Arthur this time. You had come to care deeply for him, maybe you even loved him, but you didn’t know that yet. And in that moment it didn’t matter. What mattered was his hips moving in sync with yours, the passionate kisses in between the moans that came out more frequently from the both of you.

                You dug your hands into his ass, wanting to push him closer, deeper inside of you. As you neared your peak, your hands trailed up his back to his shoulders. When you fell over the edge with Arthur following closely behind, you grabbed onto his shoulders. You were sure, your fingernails would leave red marks where you’d buried them in his back.

                Both of you came down from your high slowly, panting, still clinging to each other, lips smashing against the other’s. Arthur pulled away from you slightly, lying down next to you. His fingers gently stroked your cheek.

                ‘Thank you,’ he whispered.

                ‘For what?’ you replied in a hushed voice.

                ‘For letting me be who I am. For accepting me.’

                You smiled at him. ‘You do the same for me.’


End file.
